Insomnia
by Saf Dawnheart
Summary: Because of this journey, Tawnypelt can't sleep. Actually, because of that stupid RiverClan tom, Tawnypelt can't sleep. — Storm/Tawny.


ANOTHER RANDOM ONESHOT TO KEEP YOU WAITING ON MY OTHER FICS! XD No, not really. Just for my writers block. This is based off my old Stormfur/Tawnypelt oneshot, written way back when I first joined the site, and a while ago I decided "I'm going to rewrite it! WHEE!" XD Well, not really, but you get it. So yeah, after a while I finally overcame my laziness to spiff it up, rewrite it in first person, to create this lovely masterpiece you decided to look at! YAY!

And just so everyone knows, I've been getting a few (cough)stalking(cough) reviews that are basically "I love this fic so make up more chapters for it because it is cool!11" Once again, I am paraphrasing. Basically, I just want to say that you can't force me to write when I don't want to. How would YOU like it if I hounded YOU to _write, write, write!_? Yeah. Not nice. Not pleasant. Just wanted to say.

That being said, enjoy the oneshot!

* * *

Insomnia's got me again.

It's not the shoulder wound, either. That healed a while ago, thanks to Stoneteller's herbs and the loving care of the kit-mothers. Under their soft words and reassuring gestures, amid my own irritable snarls at being treated like a blind, deaf hindrance I feel like a kit again: no cumbersome journey weighing me down, with Brambleclaw by my side again and nothing more troublesome to worry about than our next meal, or whether or not we could play outside with Snowkit.

But that time is over now.

And normally I would be howling my pure unadulterated joy to the skies – since now it's almost like Fate has reopened my previously gummed eyes and given life back to my ears – since watching my friends head out to hunt with the Tribe enviously with an unpleasant mixture of pity and sympathy was almost more than I could bear. But now it's… something different than what's always plagued me. The sorrow at leaving my brother alone in the world so early on, the horrifying image of my father dying nine times to a single swipe of Scourge's claws raging through my mind in a bloody, carnage-filled playback of memory, all of that wasn't alone now.

It's _him._ I know it is. That thick-headed dark gray tom whose amber eyes are always bright and gleaming with mischief and good humor. The cat who in his loss reminds me so much of myself it pains me to admit it.

_Stormfur._

I still remember how he was always so worried for me when the rat bite was raw and at its worst – riddled with coming infection, making me grit my teeth with the agony that jolted through it every time I'd take a step – always fetching me prey, doing in his limited power over me all he could to make me more comfortable. And I would always blink, confused that he of all cats would do this for _me_ of all cats.

Yet just when I thought I'd come to an actual _conclusion_ about how he felt about me, we came to the Tribe.

For me, Stoneteller's skill in healing was the only blessing of this place.

It's that prey-hunter Brook that's got Stormfur wrapped around her paw. Any cat with eyes and a working brain can see that. Every day when they come back from hunting both pairs of amber eyes are shining so brightly I have to brace my still-sheathed claw tips against the hard cave floor just to avoid snarling at the Tribe she-cat. I want to get in Stormfur's face, to yowl _stop ignoring me! _until I'm half-conscious and out of breath from the effort.

I want to make Stormfur notice me like he used to.

"Tawnypelt!"

I turn my head and see the brown tabby herself, standing in front of the waterfall that cascades down in front of the cave entrance. For a moment I allow myself to acknowledge the fact that Brook really is quite a pretty cat – the water and the moonlight grazes her pelt and taints it a quivering silver – but then I narrow my eyes. "What?"

"I've called you three times already. Stoneteller sent me to make sure your shoulder's okay." Brook's normally serene pale golden eyes have an actual tint of annoyance to them. What a surprise.

"Well," I answer at last, holding back most of my annoyance, "if you must know, I feel fine."

Brook's eyes narrow as though she's considering pouncing on me at my tone, but she just nods brusquely and steps back into the shadows. I glance around the cave and finally end up resting my head on my forepaws, closing my grass-colored orbs in an attempt to get to sleep, but to my frustration it just won't come. My eyes open slightly with a low growl of irritation, but before I can allow myself to roll over in an attempt to get comfortable a voice behind me nearly makes me jump out of my fur in shock.

"Hey."

I turn my head slowly and see it's none other than Stormfur, the moonlight staining his dark gray pelt and turning it a very pale shade of silver – paler even than Brook's had been, which was ironic since his pelt is darker than hers. His amber gaze looked _worried,_ and at that my heart skips a beat.

Wait… my heart's skipping a beat in front of him all of a sudden? What is the _matter_ with me?

I don't say a word. Stormfur voices my mental question.

"What's the matter with _you? _You look like you lost a rabbit and found a shrew." His words are innocent and joking enough, but they make me flinch for some reason; I manage to lift my head to meet his eyes at last and see them trained so intently on me I almost expect my pelt to start smoldering.

"Nothing, Stormfur," I manage. "Just thinking."

"Well, you don't have to grimace like a pained vole while you do it," Stormfur says, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes – but like before, his words make me bristle slightly for no apparent reason at all.

There's an awkward silence between us, during which Stormfur turns his head to gaze out at the moon, a silvery disk blurred by the waterfall that splashed down in front of it, and during which I pray to StarClan he can't scent my nervousness.

"What was it like?" Stormfur asks suddenly.

I blink in surprise, but get my voice back after a few moments. "It depends. What's 'it'?"

Stormfur seems like he's speaking to me, but he's still staring out at the moon as though afraid to meet my eyes as he says it. I'm not sure whether to take that well or not. "Being Tigerstar's kit," he says softly, barely audible over the rush of the waterfall. "Leaving ThunderClan to go to ShadowClan."

His words seem to shake me from within, and I suddenly find myself strangely interested in what my paws are doing. Part of me wants to tell him to mind his own business, but my dominating dry voice of sarcasm is pushed aside by curiosity. _Tell him the truth. Then let's see what his reaction tells you._

"Hard," I murmur at last, and from where my gaze is still focused on my paws I see his eyes widen in surprise that I'd decided to actually talk to him about it. The realization for some reason raises an abrupt, irrational prickle of annoyance, but I keep going. "Brambleclaw always got the worst of it, though, just because he looked just like our father." Even remembering it is stirring my fury, and the tips of my claws flex and brace against the hard ground. "StarClan, I _hated_ it!"

Stormfur doesn't back away, though, but only stares at me sympathetically. He seems to be at a loss for words, I note almost absently, but the knowledge seems to put out a paw to curb my anger, to beg me silently not to run him off.

I have to swallow my pride hard to summon the casual tone of my next words. "In all honesty, I was sick of the discrimination from the start. At first, though, I didn't even understand it… everyone just always looked at us funny, and for the life of me I couldn't understand why.

"And it irked me, to tell the truth." I notice Stormfur's fully alert now, his eyes wide open and focused right on me, and again I almost expect my pelt to catch fire with the force of his stare. Despite the unease now roiling through me I continue. "Among the discrimination, I didn't understand why Brambleclaw chose to put up with it. He tolerated all those glares as though they were nothing. I think you'd know by now that I have no patience for those around me whatsoever –" the words escape me so easily I'm shocked and a little ashamed at myself for being so open, but Stormfur only nods in understanding and flicks his tail for me to go on – "so of course I was often left wondering _why_ and how he put up with it."

I take a deep breath, exhausted from revealing so much for some reason. "One day, though, when I took moss to the elders, just because I was a little late with it Smallear – you remember Smallear from Gatherings, right? – Smallear remarked that Tigerstar had never wanted to help the elders much either, and he could see I was going to turn out just like my father."

_Father._ The word, two innocent little syllables, feels so strange on my tongue after not using it for such a long time. I roll the word around in my mind for a few moments and realize it tastes bittersweet, and the familiar pang of regret shoots through me at thinking of what could've been had my mother not fallen for Tigerstar.

Stormfur's amber eyes widen now, comically large; clearly he hasn't heard this part of the story from Gathering gossip, but he doesn't say anything. It strikes me how strange he's acting – just listening and letting me pour out my story – but at this point I don't think I truly care, I just want a conduit to spill my tale out into and have him know.

"So…" I pick my next words carefully, because there's not much else to say. "I left. I went to ShadowClan, and my father." Once again the word _father_ feels so odd to say that the breath catches sharply in my throat, and unconsciously my tail sweeps around to tuck against my body. _Is this really how it is? Do I find it so difficult to say something as simple as the word 'father'?_

To my amazement Stormfur's eyes soften, and my fur tingles strangely as his own tail-tip touches my flank sympathetically. "I know how hard it must've been," he begins carefully. "Feathertail and I don't know what life would be like without us being able to see our father – in a good light, I mean," he adds at the confused look on my face. "Having Tigerstar for a father… it must be like not having a father at all."

"You still like to point out the obvious, don't you?" I almost say, but hold myself back, deciding not to ruin the actual mood that's sprung up between us now. Instead I just nod, trusting myself for the first time ever to stay silent.

After a long moment my pelt begins to prickle with unease as I realize that his ashen-colored tail-tip is still resting on my own tawny shoulder. Stormfur follows my gaze and immediately his tail drops to curl around his paws. "Well," he mutters at last, yawning and stretching as he speaks, "I'm going to go get some sleep. I'll… see you in the morning."

"You too," I mumble in reply, resting my head on my paws and staring absently at the waterfall.

Stormfur nods and turns to slip away toward his own moss-filled dip in the cave floor, rather hastily, I notice. Seized by a sudden, gripping urge to look after him, my eyes slide across the cave to where the smooth slope of his broad gray back is just visible in the darkness. Watching Stormfur shift about to get comfortable, I feel a small smile manage to grace my features, but before I can get too sentimental with myself I have to whip my head away as his head turns in response to my stare.

Before I settle with my head on my paws I notice Stormfur's amber eyes gleam as he turns back around, and before I know it my eyelids have dropped.

And after a while, sleep claims me at last.

* * *

WHY is it that I suck at writing endings to my oneshots? (headdesk) Ah well, review anyway! (points to stash of Stormfur plushies) Oh, and expect that Soren x Pelli oneshot I told you about on my profile to be up soon! 


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